He turned 29! I forgot to announce, but a month and one day later, I am announcing the fact that this wee little boy was able to blow his imaginary candles on his biggest day ever!

Note his favorite t-shirt (obtained by yours truly from Echo Park Time Travel Mart) says My friends are dead and the birthday cake with layers of mint chocolate chip ice cream, cookies ‘n cream ice cream and white cake…decorated with shades of blue…and sprinkles!

There’s nobody else I know in the world that loves the low-brow, values high culture…and will say okay! to everything (except loud environments). It was a grand day of fry stuff, friends, games…and good stuff! Yay, happy burfday taiches!

I have discovered tunerfish.

And I would like people to join me in social checking into videos, because:

Well not this one, but the first blog that I had which was hosted on the now-defunct scribble.nu Sure I had a pseudo-blog on my geocities website, but that was barely of note.

My first entry was on September 27, 2010 at 1:44 AM and it started like this:

It’s early in the morning now. Just a few minutes ago, my dorm neighbor ceased from a vicious phone call. His voice echoed from his room into my room through the window in the airy night.

Then I started rambling about how much I think. Particularly around social status. And then I started describing an embarrassing—well not really embarrassing, but awkward moment in the dining commons.

Earlier today (or yesterday depending on your perspective), I once encountered my major personal conflict. Being forced to make conversation. Of course, it seems so trivial that I should be worried about such a minor detail. However, fulfilling expectations and that innate human desire to please everyone bothered me throughout dinner. Funny as it was, I remember watching a girl with a huge scoop of mashed potatoes on her plate. Much too huge. After I gathered my food from the miniscule selection for dorm residents, I headed straight to a two seater table intending to enjoy my meal in beautiful silence.
Unfortunately, as my luck would have it. The other innate human desire to socialize prevailed in that girl with mashed potatoes. She had walked to the other side of the dining room, but suddenly spun to my table and promptly asked, “Is this seat taken?” I could only sputter, “Uh, no.” “So how are you today?” she asked. “Good…” I began thinking whether I should attempt a conversation. “How about you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
I nodded and looked down at my food. I realized that I did not have a fork to cut my ham. We sat in silence for the next five minutes. Abruptly the girl as quickly as she sat down got up. “It was nice eating with you,” she smiled.
I gave an ironic smile back. Yes very nice. I do love silence.

I smile looking back, because that memory imprinted on me for years to come. I would describe it as proof of my awkwardness in college. I would describe it when friends would lavish how much they loved living in the dorms. It wasn’t that I did not enjoy living there, I just didn’t know how to take advantage of it.

That day started a daily “journal” that has gone on for every day since. I nearly maintained a very regular daily regimen of blogging/journaling. But in the last 4 years, I have cut back because I have finally gotten myself away from the computer. To do what normal people do. Be not at the computer. But every chance that I get…I will write. I constantly write.

There was once when I was so upset that a friend asked me to do whatever I normally do to un-upset myself. Easy. I sat down in front of my computer and started writing.

Today, I received a “reminder” for my upcoming 10 year high school reunion. An evite. I had responded maybe unsure if I wanted to return to a group of people that I barely knew. Somehow the organizer decided that maybe was not appropriate and changed it to a no.

Like many events that I am not sure if I want to attend until the very last minute, I want to have the option of opting out.

I noticed that many were married. Some had move across the country. Some were traveling through Asia or South America. And more so, there were some that said nothing at all.

I scanned through Facebook and the faces had all changed. There was the guy that used to make fun of me when I was 10 and I would run away shutting the door behind me. Then there was the guy who was sort of the class clown…he was amusing in class, but got in trouble a lot…he was unexpectedly smart. Then there were the blond water polo girls—in my high school, they were the equivalent of the cheerleaders. Popular…they lived in the west side in big 3 story mansions. Then there was the girl whose mother was murdered in her own house during my senior year by people who came out of the BART station looking for money—I wonder how the family is doing. There was a name missing—my neighbor who committed suicide a few years ago off a local bay area bridge. And I saw that my former best friend was not on the list—we lost touch deliberately perhaps. And the girl who contacted me a few years ago because she was trying to start up her band. And then the many many many names that meant nothing to me because they didn’t know that I exist and I certainly didn’t pay attention to them.

But the event is free (except that I need to pay my own drinks). At Sinbad’s on Pier 2. I don’t think that I am a tourist though.

If this was a moment in college, I would documented it endlessly without forgetfulness. But today…years later, I am more caught up in the moment. Yet I am still so…easily shaped by anxiety.

But today sadly wasn’t full of geekery or saving the earth. Instead it was full of these three words:

There was a terror I had felt about six years ago when I looked at the parents in the swimming pool club next to my house. A typical day was going to Target…getting the kids to eat…going for a walk…making dinner…sleep. The idea of it still makes me want to flee. But not as much as it used to.

Coworkers always think that my weekends are constantly full of adventure, escapades, non-stop activity, people. I deliberately made it that way. It’s always someone’s birthday. It’s always something that I am hosting. A scavenger hunt perhaps. A trek up north, west, east, or south. Relaxing not usually in my blood.

This weekend, I only said that I was getting a haircut and my coworkers were surprised. But later my weekend morphed into going out for every meal with someone. A casual laid back party. A lunch out with friends…and dinner with another group. And “training” jogs. And cat-sitting. It was packed. But here I am, like nearly every night, back at my computer, typing this for posterity’s sake. Just like I have been doing for almost the past 10 years.

When you meet someone, you can tell immediately whether you can click. Do they laugh at the same jokes that you laugh at? Do you generally have the same attitude toward life? Do you have the same shared fascination of certain things?

I have always hate it when I meet up with an old friend and find that…the “shared” beliefs…are not there. What happened? Did I get more narrow-minded? Did I become afraid? Or from the very beginning, was I already unwritten when we first met and that I only became defined…now.

I told the same joke today, expecting a laugh. Maybe it’s because she didn’t know my style. Most people I tell it too…would at least chuckle even if it was absurd. But instead, it was an uncomfortable feeling. I tried my very best to talk around it as if…nothing happened.

Yes, my cucumber was missing. Literally.

But it was not as anxiety-causing as THE WALLET or THE PASSPORT.

Yesterday, I had sworn that I had put it in the corner next to my butter. It was slightly moldy on on end, but I was ready to take it on. Perhaps to make a the vermicelli salad with lettuce, carrots, green papaya, and cucumber. Then topped with some nice grilled meat. I thought about it after a long day at work on my long train ride (I had to catch the slow train)…and the slow drive back to my place.

My roommate and a friend were about to depart for a show at the Marsh. I debated going for a run but decided to prepare dinner first. So I looked inside the fridge, expecting to find the ingredients that I was searching for.

Carrots in the fresh compartment. Check.

Cucumber…not found?

I noticed an empty drawer. Completely empty. And clean.

My roommate had already left.

But my cucumber?! Gone! Absent! No mark!

Yesterday, I had considered using it in my dinner, but decided impulsively to make mashed potatoes instead with my brand new potato ricer (thanks to Williams-Sonoma). But today, I intended to go all Asian…but to my horror, my cucumber was gone.

I sulked. Instead, I ate a hard-boiled egg and two soft tacos with apples, jalapeño cheddar, green leaf lettuce. Yeah so the latter does sound interesting but nothing like the vermicelli salad that would have been a great lunch for the next two days.

I miss you, cucumber. You were a present from Chris. I remember the day that you arrived. There were two—I used one to make Chris’ palate cleansing salad for his deep fry birthday party. Then the other was supposed to be around today.

If only the cleaning lady didn’t decide to toss out my cucumber.

Note: The 2010 scavenger hunt is over (a concluding post will come soon) and we got first place out of 121 teams! This is a series explaining the background and thinking of our missions of the SF Street Food Scavenger Hunt 2010!

What does it mean when I am not available? I send my other team minions! Usually for the hunt, I took it upon myself to do most of the photo/video mission, assuming that others certainly don’t want to embarrass themselves. Bust most importantly to assert my creative vision. Ok, so I have some superiority issues! But like in any field, when you can trust your team members to do the job, you may be extraordinarily surprised!

There were two missions that I couldn’t do:
1. Visit the booth for Sukhi’s. I had tried calling them asking when they would be available. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it to the Jack London Square Farmer’s Market…and how would I have known to do that mission if I couldn’t be there. Rather we were busy eating this. And not to mention, wasn’t that a difficult mission? To send us all the way there when we were only notified barely 24 hours in advance? I wanted to see my parents, grandparents and my sister who was just visiting for one week—who I hadn’t seen for more than 8 months! That’s disrespectful, but hey all in good fun.

So our dear lovely team member took it upon herself to purchase a frozen dinner from Sukhi’s.

Grocery stores (*cough*) aren’t exactly friendly to people taking pictures. So I give many props to Cynthia for pulling this off!

And of course…a drum circle. I don’t know what the original prompt was, but it was to go to Revolution Cafe and make a drum circle. Extra points if you get others involved.

And Cynthia, Jeff, and Chris did…while I was wittling away at work. Chris bought all his drum sticks—expensive ones—from his Rock Band collection. As I heard, Chris and Cynthia practiced a drum beat on the caltrain, but basically tossed it aside when they arrived at the destination, which happened to be around the corner from where I live. The music was too loud.

Of course, as seen in the video…many people were completely stoned. And they were more than happy to participate in a random drum ordeal!

Cynthia got excited and turned the camera on its side thus the orientation switching in the middle of the recording!

Good job, team!